r tawny orange." Here he stopped: "Yes, you speak of
party-spirit; very true, there's a good deal of it.... No, I don't think
there's much," he continued, rousing; "certainly there is more division
just at this minute in Oxford, but there always is division, always
rivalry. The separate societies have their own interests and honour to
maintain, and quarrel, as the orders do in the Church of Rome. No,
that's too grand a comparison; rather, Oxford is like an almshouse for
clergymen's widows. Self-importance, jealousy, tittle-tattle are the
order of the day. It has always been so in my time. Two great ladies,
Mrs. Vice-Chancellor and Mrs. Divinity-Professor, can't agree, and have
followings respectively: or Vice-Chancellor himself, being a new broom,
sweeps all the young Masters clean out of Convocation House, to their
great indignation: or Mr. Slaney, Dean of St. Peter's, does not scruple
to say in a stage-coach that Mr. Wood is no scholar; on which the said
Wood calls him in return 'slanderous Slaney;' or the elderly Mr. Barge,
late Senior Fellow of St. Michael's, thinks that his pretty bride has
not been received with due honours; or Dr. Crotchet is for years kept
out of his destined bishopric by a sinister influence; or Mr. Professor
Carraway has been infamously shown up, in the _Edinburgh_, by an idle
fellow whom he plucked in the schools; or (_majora movemus_) three
colleges interchange a mortal vow of opposition to a fourth; or the
young working Masters conspire against the Heads. Now, however, we are
improving; if we must quarrel, let it be the rivalry of intellect and
conscience, rather than of interest or temper; let us contend for
things, not for shadows."

Sheffield was pleased at this, and ventured to say that the present
state of things was more real, and therefore more healthy. Mr. Malcolm
did not seem to hear him, for he did not reply; and, as they were now
approaching the bridge again, the conversation stopped. Sheffield looked
slily at Charles, as Mr. Malcolm proceeded with them up High Street; and
both of them had the triumph and the amusement of being convoyed safely
past a proctor, who was patrolling it, under the protection of a
Master.

CHAPTER VI.

The walk to Oxley had not been the first or the second occasion on which
Charles had, in one shape or other, encountered Sheffield's views about
realities and shams; and his preachments had begun to make an impression
on him; that is, he felt t